THE CROW'S INN TRAGEDY (Murder Mystery Classic). Annie Haynes

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СКАЧАТЬ say that death took place probably about two hours before you saw the body, doctor? and you were called in about two o'clock. Therefore, Mr. Bechcombe must have died about twelve o'clock. You are quite definite about this?"

      "I cannot be more exact as to the time," Dr. Hackett said slowly. "I should say about twelve o'clock--certainly not much after. More probably a little before."

      The inspector stroked his clean-shaven chin and glanced over his notes.

      "Just one more question, Dr. Hackett. Can you tell me just who was in the room when you got there?"

      Dr. Hackett hesitated a moment.

      "Well, there was Mr. Walls, who seems to be managing things in Thompson's absence, and three other men whose names I do not of course know, and the late Mr. Bechcombe's secretary, whose name I understand to be Hoyle--Miss Hoyle."

      The inspector pricked up his ears.

      "I have not seen Miss Hoyle. What sort of a woman?"

      "Oh, just a girl," the doctor said vaguely. "Just an ordinary-looking girl. I did not notice her much, except that I thought she looked white and shocked, as no doubt she was, poor girl!"

      "No doubt!" the inspector assented. "How was she dressed, doctor?"

      "Dressed?" the doctor echoed in some surprise. "Well, I don't take much notice of dress myself. Just a dark gown, I think."

      "No hat?"

      "No, I don't think so. No, I am sure she hadn't."

      "Do you know where she works?"

      "Didn't know such a person existed until this afternoon. I know nothing about her," the doctor said, shaking his head.

      The inspector coughed.

      "Um! Well, that will be all for the present, doctor. It is probable that you may be wanted later, and of course possible that Mrs. Bechcombe may wish to see you."

      "I suppose she has been told?"

      "Of course," the inspector assented. "We phoned to the house at once, and I gather she was informed of the death, not of course of the cause, by a relative who was there--a Mr. Collyer, a clergyman. I shall go round to see her when I have finished here. I hear that she collapsed altogether on hearing of her loss."

      "Poor thing! Poor thing!" the doctor murmured. "Well, inspector, I shall hold myself at your disposal."

      Left alone, the inspector looked over his notes once more and then sounded the electric bell twice. One of his subordinates opened the door at once.

      "Tell Moore and Carter to take the names and addresses of all the clients. Verify them on the phone and then allow them to go home. If any of them are not capable of verification, have them shadowed. Now send John Walls to me."

      The clerk did not keep Inspector Furnival waiting. He came in hesitatingly, dragging his feet like a man who has had a stroke. His face was colourless, his eyes were dark with fear.

      "You sent for me, inspector?" he said, his teeth chattering as if with ague.

      "Naturally!" the inspector assented, glancing at him keenly. "I want to hear all you know about Mr. Bechcombe's death. But, first, has Amos Thompson returned?"

      "N--o!" quavered Walls.

      "Can you account for his absence in any way?" the inspector questioned shortly.

      "No, I have no idea where he is," Walls answered, gathering up his courage. "But then he is the managing clerk. I am not. I very seldom know anything of his work."

      The inspector did not answer this. He drew his brows together.

      "When did you see him last?"

      "About half-past twelve, it would be. He went out of the office, I have not seen him since. But he did go out to lunch early sometimes. And he may have gone somewhere on business for Mr. Bechcombe." Walls wiped the sweat from his brow as he spoke.

      The inspector looked at him.

      "I understand that Mr. Bechcombe was heard to tell him to be in readiness to go with him to the Bank at one o'clock?"

      "I--I believe Spencer said something about that," Walls stammered. "But I did not hear what Mr. Bechcombe said myself. My desk is farther away than Spencer's and I was busy with my work. All I heard was that Mr. Bechcombe was not to be disturbed on any account. He slightly raised his voice when he said that."

      "Did you gather that Mr. Bechcombe had business of an important nature with a mysterious client?"

      "I didn't gather anything," said Walls with some warmth. "It wasn't my business to. If Mr. Bechcombe did have an important client he must have admitted him himself by the private door. The last one that went to him in an ordinary way came out in a very few minutes."

      "Before twelve o'clock?" questioned the inspector sharply.

      "Oh, yes. Some minutes before the clock struck--about a quarter to, I should say. I noticed that."

      "Because--" Inspector Furnival prompted.

      "Oh, well, because I heard it strike afterwards, I suppose," Walls answered lamely. "There are days when I don't notice it."

      "Um!" the inspector glanced at him. "Do you know the name of the last client who saw Mr. Bechcombe?"

      "Pounds--Mr. Pounds, of Gosforth and Pounds, the big haberdashers. He came about the lease of some fresh premises they are taking. I happen to know that."

      "Ah, yes." The inspector looked him full in the face. "But you don't happen to know why Mr. Anthony Collyer wanted to see his uncle, perhaps?"

      The sweat broke out afresh on Mr. Walls's forehead.

      "I don't know anything about it."

      "You know that Mr. Collyer came," the inspector said with some asperity. "Why did you not mention it?"

      Walls glanced at him doubtfully.

      "There wasn't anything to mention. Mr. Anthony wanted to see Mr. Bechcombe, and he couldn't, so he went away. He talked to Mr. Thompson, not to me."

      "You did not hear what he said when he went away? Your desk seems to be most inconveniently placed, Mr. Walls."

      "I heard him talking a lot of nonsense to Mr. Thompson."

      "Such as--" The inspector paused.

      "Oh, well, he said he must see Mr. Bechcombe and he said he would, and Mr. Thompson--"

      "Be careful!" warned the inspector. "Don't make any mistakes, Mr. Walls, I want to know what Mr. Anthony Collyer said."

      "He said--he said--if Mr. Thompson didn't let him in he would go round to Mr. Bechcombe's private door," the man said, then hesitated. "But it--it was just nonsense."

      "Did he try to get into the room through the private door?"

      "I СКАЧАТЬ